


Starlight

by poisonandwine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't copy to another site, Don't repost, F/M, Fantasy, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Уточнять у автора
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonandwine/pseuds/poisonandwine
Summary: (One-shot.) Tyrion Lannister is the navigator and Jennifer Knott (original OC) is the communications operator, both aboard the Seven Kingdoms Battlecruiser. The SKB serves the western expanse of civilized space, and its captain is Joffrey Baratheon.





	Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anstoirm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anstoirm/gifts).



> This is an expanded version of a Tumblr drabble prompt, offered by anstoirm some time ago. This is just a one-shot, because I honestly cannot put any energy into *another* story right now. 
> 
> I had so much fun writing the original prompt, though it was shorter. I am so happy to get the chance this weekend to expand it out more. I hope you like this AU sci-fi twist on the GoT/ASoIaF universe--and more so, AU twist on 'Unmanned,' I suppose, since they're both there, too.

Commanding Officer Bronn strolled next Commander Tyrion Lannister, the soles of their shoes _tapping_ against the metal grates of the Seven Kingdoms Battlecruiser (SKB, for short).

“Your nephew is at it again,” Bronn said. “I saw another pod blast towards the prison ship in the East.”

“Yes, well,” Tyrion cleared his throat. “He certainly knows how to bear consequence on the other men and women on board. As captain, I suppose punishment is in his jurisdiction.”

“‘Cept we need the people to keep us hoverin’ out here in this starlit wasteland.” Bronn chuckled, eliciting an odd look from his companion. “You know, you’ll be next if you get caught sleeping in the navigator’s wing again.”

“If the lights stay low, they’ll never find me.”

“And the booze?”

“You can’t take away my fun, Bronn!”

Bronn shrugged his shoulders and adjusted the brown utility belt hanging cockeyed on his hips. It matched the rest of his officer’s suit, which looked worn in from his regular work enforcing. 

Officer Jennifer Knott walked past them with a hovering android named Poppy following closely behind taking notes on a thin tablet. Poppy was a matte grey and shaped like an upside-down teardrop. Her small robotic hands were typing furiously on the touchscreen. Jennifer’s long, red hair was neatly braided behind her head, and the black communications officer suit she wore hugged her firmly.

“Don’t forget to include the notes from the transmission we received from the Braavosi Spacecruiser,” Jennifer said to her cyber-assistant. “Commander Varys should hear about their plans to abort the Moonsinger Raiders to the South.”

“The South you say?” Tyrion asked, stopping Jennifer mid-thought.

She turned to him, taking note of the cleanly-pressed blue navigator’s suit he was sporting. It didn’t cling to him the way many suits did, but it was the tidiest she had seen it in some time. She rarely saw it without some messiness from his late nights in the SKB cafeteria.

“Good evening, Commander,” she replied with a bow of her head. “Yes, it appears the Moonsinger Raiders tried to seize control of the Iron Bank in sector 15, so now the Braavosi captain is taking their threat more seriously.”

“Figures,” Bronn said with a frown. “I had a bit of stock in that bank.”

Jennifer raised an eye brow and smirked. “I imagine your stock will be fine, Officer Bronn, given they didn’t get very far. But I worry given we know very little of the southern reaches of space, and we’re possibly imposing our criminals on enemy territory.”

“Should I also alert the captain?” Tyrion asked.

“Not now, Commander. I will take this to our most enthused spy, and he can deliver the news to the Small Council.” She turned to Poppy and whispered something, eliciting furious scribbling on the tablet. “I worry,” she continued to the two men before her, “if this news comes from too many places at once, it might result in something rash from the captain.”

“Wise as ever,” Tyrion replied. “Do let us know if we can help you with your work.”

Bronn stared at Tyrion with a cocked eyebrow. The commander was a peculiar git, always offering up his free time to extra work—and Bronn knew Tyrion would make sure Bronn did most of it. “Speak for yourself,” he barked. “I got a ride out of this ship to head towards sector 10 tomorrow morning.”

Jennifer looked down at her shoes, trying desperately to mask a laugh.

“Ah yes,” Tyrion confirmed, looking up at Bronn with amusement. “I forgot about your date with the women in Commander Petyr Baelish’s company… Well fine.” He turned back to Jennifer. “I will at least be around, should you need me.”

Tyrion kicked his foot against the console, spinning himself slowly in his bowl-shaped swivel chair. The console’s metal casing, knobs, buttons and touchscreen filled the room with a nearly inaudible buzz of white noise. Tyrion was drinking from a long-necked bottle some type of neon blue liquor. Between sips, he hummed to himself. The hums of the console were drowned out by a soft song, serving to mask his overbearing boredom.

Small lights blinked on the flattop screen of the console—each one signaled a nearby ship or small craft hovering within a 100-mile radius of the SKB. Tyrion paid none of it any mind—if it were a true threat, he’d know.

He took his last sip of drink and rotated back to face the nearest viewport. A vast expanse of stars looked back down on him, their reflective rays splitting and blurring in his addled state. The small wing he was in was dark and only lit by the lights of the console and reflection of space consuming every inch of the universe around him—every bit of it felt never-ending and somehow suffocating at the same time.

Tyrion’s eyes glazed over; he pushed against the console with his foot, leaning back further in his chair. He folded his arms behind his head, his humming lulled into silence as he drifted off to sleep.

Moments later, though he was unsure how much time had actually passed, his foot was kicked off of the console, and he lunged forward.

Tyrion gasped and braced himself on the arms of his chair, his quick intake of air causing him to choke. He turned to see Jennifer standing there, arms folded; she looked frustrated. His messy hair and beard made him look utterly disheveled next to her; his collar was unbuttoned at the top.

Tyrion rubbed his face in his hands and adjusted himself to sit upright in his chair. “What could I have possibly done to deserve that?”

“You’re sleeping on the job again,” Jennifer replied.

He groaned. “And what else do you suppose I do?” he asked. “It’s not as if there is a lot for me to do when we’re not in active transit.” He gestured to the stars behind him.

She shook her head. “Captain said we need you alert in the event we have to move, and you’re the one manning the console.”

“Well, little bird, tell our dearest captain that I have everything under control.”

_Little bird._

Jennifer always cut Tyrion a look whenever he called her that. It was his pet name for her. And the more she spent delivering communications to the crew of the SKB, the more he was inclined to call her by it. She hadn’t quite figured out if she liked it or not.

The shadows of the room darkened his usually bright expression, and she couldn’t read his eyes to determine his mood.

“I have far better things to do than to play telecom for the entire crew; my job as a communications officer is to focus on translations and recordings between our ship—”

“—Yes, yes,” Tyrion interrupted, waving one hand at her and resting his chin in the other. “I know, I know. Communications between our ship and the ever-reaching corners of space.”

Jennifer huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “If you have this so memorized, perhaps you could try your hand at not relegating me to the ship’s ‘little bird’ whenever you get the chance.”

“You really are something when you’re irritated with me, you know,” he replied.

At that moment, a craft flew past, and its blue-flare lights washed over him. She could see the grin stretched across his face. From his position, one cheek against the palm of his hand, he almost seemed to stare at her dreamily.

She dropped her hands from her hips. The dimly lit room urged her closer to him, and as the blue lights phased out of the wing again, she felt a little braver with each step in her approach. This was still so new: them.

“I must be something _good_ considering you’re _always_ irritating,” she said.

“That’s a peculiar pronunciation of the word ‘charming’.” He turned his chair to face her body, his hand dropping from his cheek. His posture still read as relaxed, but he felt more alert than he had when she jolted him awake.

Tyrion reached out his hand, and she placed hers in his gently. As she stepped forward to stand between his legs, she accidentally kicked the empty bottle of liquor, and the sound of rolling glass across the metal flooring pulled their attention away from one another.

They turned back to one another after what felt like several moments of the sounds of scraping metal.

“Please don’t report me to the captain for drinking, too,” he pleaded with a small smile. His voice was lower now. It was meant as a joke; he was only a partial threat to the captain, due to being his unfortunate uncle. But the idiot boy and the rest of his family were always looking for excuses to test Tyrion in zero gravity.

“I won’t,” Jennifer replied. “Do you have more to share?” 

“Now we’re talking,” Tyrion said with a chuckle. He pulled out another bottle from under the console and tugged at her hand gently.

She complied with the small gesture, sitting across his lap, legs hanging over the arm of one chair. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and he stared at her with piercing green eyes. He took a sip from the bottle and passed it to her. She followed suit, feeling the bubbles warm her cheeks. He watched her closely as she indulged—something she rarely did during operational hours.

He sighed. But it wasn’t a sigh of frustration or exhaustion, it was contentment. She set the bottle between them and pulled herself in closer by his shoulders.

She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, smiling as she did so.

“So, _this_ is why you’re determined to keep the lights low?” Bronn asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Jennifer was startled and wrapped herself around Tyrion tighter, but she relaxed once she saw Bronn standing there. She fidgeted on his lap—they hadn’t exactly ousted themselves yet, least of all to someone who would never let them live it down if this _thing_ of theirs failed. However, Tyrion was less unnerved by his presence.

“ _Must_ you interrupt me just when things are finally getting interesting over here?”

“Hey, you cock-blocked me last week, so I figured I owed ya’ one.”

“I hardly consider that fair.”

Jennifer leaned her head back against the curve of the bowl-shaped chair the two were still nestled in and rolled her eyes. She dropped one of her hands from around Tyrion’s neck and cradled the liquor bottle with it. “I suppose we always knew you’d be the first to figure us out,” she said with a sigh.

“I’m more cunnin’ than the two of ya’ give me credit for,” Bronn replied, smirking. The smirk fell, and he gestured with his thumb to Poppy hovering in the corner. “Plus, I could see that thing hovering outside the door.”

“Poppy,” Jennifer called out. The high-pitched whir of her companion sounded as she rushed into the room. With digitally-set eyes, the android looked at her owner intently. “You can rest for the day, thank you.”

Poppy gave a small chirp and quickly headed off down the large deck to her station in Jennifer’s quarters.

“If you’ve had fun fucking around, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me to this now, Bronn,” Tyrion said.

Jennifer grinned, watching the side of Tyrion’s face closely.

Bronn scoffed, walking out of the room. “Don’t forget your _nephew_ has ordered an emergency Small Council meetin’ this evenin’.”

Tyrion had just barely caught the warning, however. His lips were already on Jennifer’s, one hand holding onto her cheek.


End file.
